


For the Week.

by ImJustFandomTrash



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Cussing, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gore, Graphic Description of Corpses, Graphic Violence, Horror, Menstruation, Mystery, Period Sex, Romance, Suspense, Swearing, female period
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:49:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJustFandomTrash/pseuds/ImJustFandomTrash
Summary: You thought your life was relatively normal. You were just a regular woman who had escaped the war, working as an innkeeper for a wealthy noblewoman in a run-down village just outside of Novigrad. Everything was peaceful and quiet until he came. The White Wolf; Gold-eyed one. Some called him the Butcher of Blaviken, but you knew him as Geralt of Rivia: the witcher who placed your life into complete disarray.How will you deal with the company of the white-haired one; especially when a monster begins killing the people of your village?Geralt of Rivia x Female! Reader
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 93





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know I got En'ca Minne to finish up, but I decided to post this one as well because I couldn't resist!!

You should have known better than to get involved with him. Even after all the warnings your mother had drilled into your head since the day you could walk, you had done the exact thing your mother had feared.

 _‘Don’t get involved with anybody of their kind,’_ she had said. _‘They’ll rip you to pieces and then tell you to rip some more.’_

However, when you had first seen him, you hadn’t felt the fear your mother tried to place into you about him and his kind. No, you had felt nothing but curiosity as the lumbering Witcher stalked into your inn, his eyes full of authority and shoulders squared as if he owned the ground he walked upon.

Golden eyes stared down at you as you stood behind your counter, your broom frozen mid-sweep as you gazed at him, and when the Witcher spoke, you swore that shivers ran down your spine.

“How much for a room for the week?”

His voice was rough, almost like how a strong glass of ale burned the back of your throat…pleasant yet abrupt. His very presence was just like a strong glass of ale, and it was one that made your stomach tighten.

“It’s…It’s, um…55 crowns per night. So, 385 crowns in total.”

The Witcher’s eyes raised a bit, seeming to observe you, dissect your very being to see if you were trying to play him, and he asked you.

“Is that upfront or by the end of my stay?”

For a moment, you were quiet. The rules to your inn were always strict and simple: pay upfront, or get your ass out the door. It had always been that way. However, standing in front of the Witcher, you could not bring yourself to tell him to get out.

Whether it was fear or compassion, you were truly unsure at this moment of time. Deciding to play it safe, you asked the Witcher.

“How much do you have right now?”

The Witcher patted his coin bag, almost as if trying to remember just how many crowns he had, and he answered after a moment.

“Fuck. I only have 237, but I can get it to you by the end of my stay.”

You bit your lip, that churning beginning in your stomach again, and you sighed as a wave of heat suddenly came over your body.

“Fine, fine, but if I don’t see the 385 by the time your stay comes to an end, you’ll have more than just hell to pay.”

The Witcher’s lips turned up into a small smirk, almost as if he was amused by your words, and he nodded as you glared at him.

“You have my word.”


	2. Day One: Arrival

The village was quiet as the sun slowly began to rise above the horizon. Mist and dew covered the settlement in soft wet kisses as the animals began to awaken. Rooster calls slowly rang out through the settlement, alerting the village that it was time to wake up.

At least, for those that had been asleep.

For you, sleep had not come easily. In fact, you were sure that you had not slept for a single moment during the night. Painful stabs and uncomfortable heat flashes had plagued your body, and with a sense of dread, you were hesitant to admit that your cycle had begun.

It was hard when that time of the month would come.

Your mother had warned you that when that time of the month would come, it would be painful and extremely messy. However, you had not anticipated for the noted pain to be so crippling…nor the blood to be so messy and disgusting. You couldn’t count on one hand how many undergarments and dresses you had ruined because of the blood and mess.

Washing your clothes in the sights of others was always the hardest. Julianna, the owner of the inn for whom you worked as innkeeper for, didn’t want anybody washing clothes within the spacious basement that was strictly off-limits to anybody. 

So, when it came time to clean your clothes, especially the bloody ones, well…people weren’t very happy.

There really wasn’t anything that you could do about it. Nobody knew why women bled…and it caused much unrest, especially among the holy ones. You were sure that you heard ‘women who bleed are witches’ at least five times from ignorant holy men.

Your mother had always assured you that the bleeding was natural and nothing to be afraid of. All women went through this until they got into their sunset ages, and that anybody who tried to say they didn’t was a liar. 

Though, nobody really said anything about the bleeding women went through. It was a taboo, and because of that, there wasn’t much research nor medicine for the pain that came with the cycle. 

Rolling onto your side, you groaned as pain ran through your lower spine, twinges and gut-rolling punches almost making you immobile. Waking up was always the hardest and messiest time of the day. Gods, you wished you could just stay in bed for the whole week!

Quickly, you stood up and ran to your washbasin, picking up your dress, and you sighed in relief as the uncomfortable feeling in your gut slowly went away. There was some water already prepared in some jugs, and though you weren’t keen on washing in cold water, it would probably help with your heat flashes.

As you washed up, you could hear the inn beginning to come to life. Doors were opening and slamming shut, people were speaking loudly, and water was rushing into basins in neighboring rooms as the day officially began. As you finished getting washed up, you grabbed some linen, preparing your undergarments before exiting your room.

Your barmaid, Johanna, was already awake and bustling about downstairs, getting a fire for breakfast going. When you walked in, you did not see any sign of your late-night visitor last night.

“G’mornin’, (Y/n). Some of the sailors think it’s going to rain later.”

You hummed distantly, walking behind the counter while still trying to wake up.

“That’s good. We need the rain.”

Johanna nodded before patrons of the inn began to come downstairs, sitting at the tables and waiting for breakfast to finish. With your back to the staircase, you did not notice your late-night guest coming down the stairs until the whole room became silent.

Looking up, the Witcher stood before you.

He was dressed in the attire that he had worn when he had first come into the inn: all black armor, trousers, and boots, with some dark leather bags strapped to his waist. His swords were strapped to his back as usual, and it made you wonder which one was silver and which one was steel.

His golden eyes were on you; his cat eyes making you feel rooted to your spot. His white hair looked freshly washed, pulled back with a strand falling down over his scarred and bearded face. His salt-and-pepper eyebrows were furrowed lightly, and it was then that you realized that he had spoken.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out. What did you say?”

The Witcher sighed deeply before repeating.

“Do you know where I can find Gian Angevin?”

You frowned deeply at the mention of the old village master from the abandoned village just a days travel from the settlement your inn was stationed in. What could the Witcher possibly want with him?

“Last I heard, Gian ran from his people with his prick between his legs as his people were slaughtered by the demons in the woods. If he’s here in this village, he’s most certainly unwelcome.”

“Demons?”

The Witcher raised his eyebrow at you, and you huffed lightly, feeling irritated as you leaned on the counter.

“Yes, Witcher, demons. Isn’t that what they are?”

“I still have yet to find out what ‘ _they’_ actually are, so I’ll keep you posted.”

You hummed deeply before taking a deep breath, wincing a bit as pain ran through your abdomen.

“Thanks, but I’d rather not find out what actually killed that village. I think the truth would do more harm than good. Last I heard of Gian, he’d run off to the docks under a different name to avoid backlash for his actions.”

The Witcher hummed a bit to himself before asking.

“I don’t suppose you know the name, do you?”

“No. I never cared enough about him to find out. I’m sure some of the sailors would be willing to help, but I warn you: they don’t like being bothered by outsiders.”

The Witcher simply hummed.

“Something I’m used to. Thanks for the help.”

You scoffed a bit before feeling another cramp come on, and you grabbed the counter to steady yourself. The Witcher stood quiet, watching you for a second before taking his leave, and you watched him go with a raised brow. Johanna walked over, watching the Witcher leave as she whispered.

“What did he want?”

“He was looking for Gian.”

Johanna made a face before shaking her head.

“Damn Witchers…what’s he got to do with Gian?”

You shrugged before going back to sweeping.

“I’m unsure, but I’m guessing it has to do with the demons from the woods.”

Johanna gasped lightly before grabbing your arm and asking softly, worry running deep within her green eyes.

“Are ya positive? Do ya think they’re gonna come here and kill us all too?”

Sighing, you told the Ard Skellige native with a disapproving look.

“No, and I’d advise you to not say that in the presence of the patrons. You’re gonna scare them away!”

Johanna raised her arms in surrender.

“Sorry, but ya can’t help but worry. The whole village was dead within the morn’ of the night the demons came!”

You took a calming deep breath, resting your forehead against your hands as you clutched the broom, and you muttered.

“Johanna, let the conversation die.”

Johanna huffed, rolling her eyes before going back to the fire pit to start serving breakfast, and you rubbed your forehead. Whatever was going on with Gian and the Witcher, you were not interested in having any sort of part in it.

When you got the place swept, you set your broom in a corner before greeting some travelers. The Witcher had become nothing but forgotten from your mind as you conducted business; not once having a clue of how true Johanna’s words would be in the days to come.


	3. Day Two: Knowledge

Zyna Sigrun was Gian’s new alias.

Geralt had been able to figure out the alias after speaking to some of the sailors, but not after a few tussles and harsh words from the men; as such was expected from the innkeeps earlier warnings. It had been a bit tough, but with the use of Axii, it had become nothing but a trek through the stream.

In no time, Geralt had Gian’s new name and location.

Geralt had found that Zyna, or rather Gian, was hiding out in a nearby fishing ship within the captain's quarters. Why the man felt he couldn’t just come up to Geralt about the contract himself, Geralt had no idea.

It had made Geralt irritated from having to run around to find Gian, but the Witcher could do nothing but simply listen to the frenzied rambles of the elder as he told his story about the village and the ‘demons of the woods’ that had come through.

_“We hadn’t even had a moment to unsheathe our swords before the demons came from the woods! They…they slaughtered everything in sight. Women, children, men…only…only I was able to get away.”_

_Geralt was emotionless as he stared down at the elder man as he sipped on his ale, grayed hair tied back in a messy ponytail. The man hadn’t seemed to have a goodnight of rest since the incident; heavy bags beneath his guilty eyes._

_Geralt had no sympathy for Gian as he wept into his hands._

_“Nobody…nobody was left after the demons came…they ripped everything apart! Feasted on their blood! Devoured their flesh before my very eyes!”_

_Geralt raised his eyebrow as the man blubbered before sighed and rolling his eyes, ready for the crying and sobbing to stop. Geralt held no sympathy for those who turned their backs on their people, and this man was no exception._

_Even though Witchers were seen as emotionless beings, it was actually far from the truth. Most Witchers often had dampened emotions or couldn’t feel emotions in their entirety (at least, that’s what the journals on the trial of the grasses had depicted)._

_Witchers could feel love, hatred, bitterness, erotic euphoria, and sadness just like everyone else._ _In fact, there were many Witchers who retained their ability to feel. Hell, if Geralt had to choose and name a Witcher, he’d say that Lambert was the most expressive of all the Witchers currently roaming the world._

_But right now, Geralt was certain he could give Lambert a run for his money._

_Geralt was entirely disgusted by the former village leader. For someone who had been trusted by his village and told them that he would protect them in times of need, he sure wasn’t protective then. Was it possible that hiring a Witcher to kill the demons of the woods was Gian’s way of finding repentance?_

_“Please, Witcher, you have to help me!”_

_“Why should I help you now? There will be nobody to come back to the village once the monsters are eliminated…unless you plan to repopulate?”_

_Gian nodded furiously._

_“Yes, yes, there are many here who could use a home! I had plans to start to regrow the crops, have the village fixed up and made livable again, and bury….bury what might be left of the former inhabitants.”_

_Geralt was doubtful that it would happen, but Geralt kept his mouth closed. He would do this strictly for the crowns and that was it._

_“Why didn’t you put in a contract for the demons in the woods before?”_

_“They had never been an issue. We only believed them to be stories, but…but Joel, one of the farmers, he…he’d believed them true! Said that the corpses of his dead livestock had been eaten through or disappeared completely, but everyone sought him mad. We thought it to be wolves…but never did we expect the demons.”_

_If the monsters were feeding on the dead flesh of livestock, it was possible that the demons in the woods were actually ghouls who decided to harvest the village after their livestock dinners ran out. Geralt crossed his arms across his chest._

_“Fine, but the reward is too low. 280 is as low as I’ll go for the runaround you made me go through just to find you.”_

_Gian’s eyes bugged before he squeezed them shut, sighing heavily as his shoulders dropped._

_“Aye, as to be expected from you Witchers. I’ll have the crowns by the time the job is finished.”_

_“You better. I don’t work for free, and if I’m not paid my due, there’ll be hell to pay.”_

_How funny that those words reminded him of the innkeep. Turning around, Geralt quickly got off the ship, shaking his head a bit. He would need the crowns to pay the innkeep back, but still have enough for the road once he would leave._

So here he stood now, staring out at the village. It was desolate; barren of any life. There were only rotten corpses that the ghouls hadn’t gotten to just yet, the smell of the dead lingering heavily in the air.

The innkeep nor Gian had not lied about there being a massacre. As Geralt began to investigate, he was sure that this was the worst day he was going to have for the week.

Oh, how truly wrong he would come to be.

-WITH READER-

The morning had been uneventful for you after the Witcher left the inn. With most of the day plagued with rain, you hadn’t had many new visitors. Only the regular people and inhabitants of the inn were occupying the space. Johanna was hustling as she helped you to serve food and ale to the hungry people in the inn.

Thunder ran across the sky, and the sunlight quickly died as the storm truly began. As the storm carried on, the patrons of the inn continued to talk, eat, drink, and play Gwent as if the weather wasn’t terrible.

For a moment, the busy atmosphere died down, and Johanna sighed deeply as she leaned against the counter beside you. Her green eyes were focused on your wincing form, and she flicked back her ginger hair over her shoulder.

“You should try some honeysuckle tea for the pain.”

You looked over at Johanna with a raised brow, letting your hand fall from your belly.

“What?”

“Don’t play stupid. It’s quite obvious that yer in pain. Have ya already gone on the rag?”

Your face erupted into heat, and you hissed at the thick woman, jabbing your elbow into her side.

“Johanna! Don’t speak so boldly! Gods, what if one of the men heard you? They’ll try to throw me upon a pyre.”

Johanna laughed lightly, shaking her head.

“I forgot that a woman being on the rag was such a taboo here. In Ard Skellige, we find it to be honorable! A woman who bleeds for seven days; ha! Men can’t even handle a prick to their finger!”

You snorted a little, feeling a bit better. The front door to your tavern opened, and in walked the Witcher, soaking wet and dripping water all over the floor. You pointed at him as he began to track mud through the floor.

“Witcher, you best believe that if you track mud through my inn, you’ll be cleaning the whole place spotless!”

The Witcher looked genuinely surprised at your outburst before he huffed, kicking his boots clean of mud at the door.

“Anything else, princess?”

You glared at the Witcher before placing your hands on your hips.

“That includes the water you’ll be tracking too!”

“I can take my clothes off if you want.”

Johanna snorted into her hands, and you gawked at the Witcher who wore a mischievous gleam in his golden eyes.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oi, you better watch yourself, witcher.”

One of the men from the village, Captain Gael of one of the fishing ships on the docks, gave the Witcher a mean glare. The Witcher gave the man a look, and Johanna sucked in a breath. Your eyes widened, and you held your hand up.

“Mind your business, Captain. It’s all in jest. Besides, I’d rather not have to clean your guts from the inn’s floor and have to explain to Julianna that someone decided they would be smart and challenge a Witcher and that’s why her floors are stained with blood.”

The Captain gave you a look, and you returned it, making him grit his teeth.

“Fine, but let it be known that any speech like that continues, it won’t be my blood (Y/n)’ll have to clean up from the floors!”

The Witcher rolled his eyes, coming up to the counter, and you raised your brow.

“What, have you come for a drink or to bother me?”

Before the Witcher could answer, the door slammed open again, making the patrons jump as a hysterical woman screamed out in a frenzy.

“Murder! _Murder_!”

“Fuck.”


	4. Day Three: The Pale Woman

When you had gotten the woman dried off and into a room, the Witcher and Johanna had accompanied you to help you with the hysterical woman. The woman was shaking as she drank hot tea Johanna had brewed for her, the tears that had been running down her face drying slowly.

She hadn’t spoken since she had come into the inn screaming, and Johanna had revealed that the woman was the wife of one of the sailors. Her clothes were still dripping wet and muddy, but you weren’t worried about the mud the woman had tracked through the inn.

You were more worried about the fact the woman was certain her husband had been murdered.

“Wait, run that by me again?”

The woman gave you an incredulous look, shaking her head a bit.

“Have ya not been listenin’? I walked into my home, and my husband lied dead!”

The Witcher said, giving the woman a skeptical look.

“Just because he was dead doesn’t mean it was murder or a monster. Could have had a heart attack in his sleep.”

The woman became angry, tears coming into her eyes.

“You fools! If you could have seen him…he had the face of someone who died terrified!”

The man sighed before asking.

“Can I get a look at the body? If I examine it, I’ll be able to give a cause of death and determine if there was any foul play.”

The woman was reluctant, and you nodded.

“That sounds like a good idea to me, Heralda. Witchers have much better senses than we do. If someone actually killed Yoseph, then the Witcher will be able to tell.”

The Witcher gave you a nod before looking back at Heralda, and she bit her lip before looking at Johanna. Johanna nodded as well.

“I agree. I’ve not seen the work of a Witcher, but my father has, and he’s always had high praises. If there’s foul play, the Witcher will know.”

Heralda sighed before nodding, running a hand down her tired face.

“Oh gods, what am I gonna do? Without my husband, I’m nothin’!”

Johanna rolled her eyes inconspicuously before saying.

“That ain’t true and we all know it. Yer just as capable as yer husband was.”

The woman nodded after a moment before asking softly.

“I…can I be alone for a moment?”

You ushered everyone out before turning to the Witcher.

“Witcher, you’re gonna do something about this, right?”

The Witcher nodded before saying.

“I’ll have to know where she lives and examine the body as soon as I can, but I’ll try my best. If it was done by a human, then there won’t be much that I’ll be able to do.”

You nodded before the Witcher piped up after a pregnant pause.

“My name is Geralt, by the way.”

You gave the man a look before nodding to him.

“Well, Geralt, it’s nice to meet you. You’ve heard my name already, so I assume you don’t need me to tell you it.”

Geralt gave you a nod before saying.

“I’m gonna go try to find out what happened to the husband. If you need anything, come get me.”

You waved him off before both you and Johanna froze as an angry voice rang through the whole inn.

“What the hell is all over my floor!”

You hissed to Johanna, Geralt giving the two of you strange looks as you threw a mop at Johanna.

“Clean the hallway up! I’ll deal with her!”

“Fuck, fuck, what the hell are we gonna tell her?”

You gave a quick shrug before running down the stairs to greet the owner of the angry voice and the inn itself. However, when you got to the bottom of the stairs, you could feel your undergarments becoming uncomfortable and wet, signaling that you had begun to bleed through your clothes.

Cursing to yourself, you began to panic before forcefully calming down and squeezing your legs shut tightly as inconspicuously as possible before facing your superior with an emotionless look as the woman glared hotly at you.

Julianna Westenra was a force to be reckoned with. She was every bit of authority and beauty, with curling chestnut-colored hair that ran down to her waist and beautiful pale skin.

Her eyes were thin and almond-shaped, colored a slightly darker brown than her hair, and were always ringed in black eyeliner. Gold adorned Julianna’s pale wrists and neck, ears sporting precious gems that only those of the highest nobility or royalty could ever afford.

Her nose was medium sized and pointed, making Julianna look as though she was peering down at anybody with a sneer at all times. As you greeted her, she waved her hand around the floor, her foreign accent showing with her anger as Julianna gestured to the ground.

“What the hell happened to my inn, (Y/n)? You were supposed to watch over it and keep it clean while doing so! We are an inn, not a pig farm!”

When Geralt came down the stairs, her eyes zeroed in on the Witcher, and she pointed at him, hissing.

“What the fuck are you doing in my inn, Witcher? Nonhumans are unwelcome here!”

Johanna came down next, and Julianna gestured to the floor again.

“Do you two not know how to run an inn? Look at this place! It’s a damn mess!”

Johanna side-eyed you and Geralt before speaking up.

“My apologies, Ms. Westrena. (Y/n) told me to clean up, but I got distracted. I let the Witcher in while (Y/n) was out back.”

Your heart dropped deep into your stomach as Johanna took the fall for you, and Julianna glared hotly at Johanna. Geralt raised his hand in surrender.

“Don’t mean to cause trouble. In fact, I was just leaving. On a contract and needed information.”

“Fuck your information. Get the fuck out.”

You were honestly surprised at how hostile Julianna was towards the Witcher, but you could not say anything in fear of Julianna turning her wrath on you. When Geralt left, he gave you a strange look over his shoulder, and you knew that it would not be the last time you would hear from him.

Julianna placed her hands on her hips, giving you a dark look, and you straightened your back, keeping your legs pressed together to keep from bleeding through your garments more. She stared for a moment, nostrils flaring before she closed her eyes and waved you off.

“Out of my face, (Y/n). Johanna, get this place cleaned up!”

Johanna nodded furiously, and with a breath of relief, you ran up the stairs. As fast as you could, you undressed and got yourself cleaned up, giving a sad look at your undergarments that were soiled with blood.

“These were so damn nice…dammit.”

Sighing, you tried to wash your clothes while in the bath as best as you could, getting a fresh pair of undergarments and rags to use before drying off and slipping on your clothes.

When you were completely dressed and dry, you emptied the water basin and sat on your bed, sighing as the stress of the night caught up to you. A headache began to plague your brain, and you groaned before a knock on your door came about.

“Come in.”

Julianna strolled in, and you straightened up in surprise.

“(Y/n), when I gave you this job, I did it because I trusted that you knew what you were doing and could handle it. Allowing for my inn to look disgusting is unacceptable, and if it happens again, I will not hesitate to find someone who can do the job.”

“My apologies-“

Julianna held her hand up, giving you a look.

“I am not finished. I’m also upset about that Witcher being here. Whether he was here on a job or not, he should have never stepped foot into the inn! I would have thought that you would have taught that to Johanna.”

“With all due respect, you never said shit about nonhumans being unwelcome. Now I know, and now Johanna knows. We’ll do better next time.”

Julianna scoffed before saying.

“I’ll hold you to that.”


	5. Day Four: Geralt

_Rough hands ran down the sides of your torso, fingers ghosting along your skin to cause gooseflesh to break out onto your flesh. His lips were persistent and feverish as he kissed your neck, and your mouth fell agape as you felt his hardness press against your inner thigh._

_His hardness felt hot and heavy against you, his naked and scarred skin warm beneath your fingers. His form towered over you, white hair spilling down and tickling your face, and his golden eyes stared down at you as he held you close to his body._

_The room was hot, the bed feeling almost like a mattress of fire as the man kissed your body and caressed your skin. His tongue was cold, almost like a refreshing goblet of water as he dragged it along your neck and lips, kissing your lips into a raw frost-bitten mess._

_“Is this what you want?”_

_“Yes,” you whispered as he slipped inside of you, filling you and stretching you pleasantly._

_“Yes, Geralt.”_

Shooting up in your bed, you gasped heavily as you tried to catch your breath, the sting of your lips disappearing as your mind became aware of reality. Cold sweat ran down the back of your neck, and you groaned into your hands before placing them on your belly.

The pain was almost unbearable, shooting through your spine and into your brain as your bloated belly cramped, and you lied back down for a few extra minutes. You could tell that today would be a hard one, and you were going to have to take some form of medicine to help with your pain.

Carefully sitting up again, you went through your morning routine before walking out of your room. Walking down the stairs, you were surprised to see that Johanna was not already starting breakfast.

Had Julianna fired her? You really hoped not.

Gathering up your laundry, you walked downstairs into the waking inn. Johanna was nowhere to be seen, but when you noticed the whole inn looked freshly cleaned, you figured that Julianna had made Johanna clean all night.

Thinking that she had just slept in because of her punishment, you decided to simply allow the woman to sleep. When you walked out back, you jolted at the sight of the Witcher, Geralt, leaning up against the wall beside the washbasin for laundry.

“You didn’t sit out here all night, did you?”

Geralt looked over at you, and you were suddenly thrown back into your erotic dream, seeing his eyes hovering over yours while he gave you those freezing kisses. You looked away from him with a small scowl, trying to hide your embarrassment, and Geralt replied, uncrossing his arms before walking closer to you.

“No. Didn’t think the owner would appreciate having a nonhuman walking her grounds.”

You winced, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

“I didn’t know she would be like that with you. For the record, Julianna never said shit about nonhumans being unwelcome. I’ll knock off 55 crowns for the shitshow that was last night.”

You sat down, filling the basin with water before growing your clothes in. Geralt spotted the bloody pants and asked you.

“You get into a fight?”

Oh, geez. Your face heated up, and you blurted out.

“They’re not mine, so I have no damn clue. I tend to mix Johanna’s laundry with my own. Makes it easier that way.”

Geralt hummed, not sure if he quite believed you or not, and sat down on the opposite side of the basin.

“What did you find out about Yoseph?”

“Certainly wasn’t killed by a human, that’s for sure.”

You froze and looked up at Geralt, giving him a worried look.

“Are you saying that there’s a monster roaming the village?”

Geralt scratched his beard, saying.

“It’s possible. Yoseph was killed by a vampire, that’s for sure, but it wasn’t an ekimmara. It had been a relatively clean kill. I don’t think Yoseph even had a chance to defend himself before it was on him.”

Geralt sighed before continuing, leaning back in his seat a bit and shaking his head.

“It tried to cover as much of its tracks as possible, and succeeded once the tracks stepped out the door, so it was definitely intelligent. Might be some form of a higher vampire, but I won’t know until I can get more information.”

You hummed deeply before replying, yawning lightly and shaking your head free of the lingering exhaustion.

“Well, I won’t know much. I didn’t really know Yoseph. Johanna would be the best person for you to go to about this or Heralda herself. Yoseph and Heralda were good friends with Johanna. Helped her sail from Skellige to here.”

“Why did Johanna leave Skellige?”

You shrugged, sighing lightly as you scrubbed your undergarments free of blood.

“Johanna was a free spirit and desired to travel, but Skellige offered her no such freedom. Her father was a strict man, and Johanna didn’t want to live a stationary life as nothing but a future housewife. So, she met Yoseph, beat him in a fistfight, and as a reward, she claimed the first ride back to the mainland.”

Geralt smiled lightly in amusement before asking you.

“What about you? How’d you wind up being an innkeeper?”

You were quiet for a moment, pausing, and you looked down deeply into the water.

“Came here from Velen when the war made its mark on the land. I knew that I wouldn’t stand a chance, so I gathered up what coin I could and fled. Wound up here, and Julianna gave me a choice when I came up short after staying in the inn for a while: either work for my keep or get escorted to Novigrad. Obviously, I chose to work.”

Gerealt hummed before saying bluntly.

“Julianna doesn’t seem to be the merciful type.”

“She isn’t. She blackmailed me that day. Though, it’s better than nothing, so I can’t really complain.”

“Do you know anything more about her?”

You sighed, letting your eyes roam up to his face, staring deeply into his golden eyes. As the sun rose, they caught his eyes in such a way that the darker gold undertones began to swim brightly, making his eyes seem as though they were a hot pile of boiling amber and sunlight. Looking away shyly, you answered.

“Her name is Julianna Westenra. Apparently foreign, but she’s lived here so long that you’d never be able to tell. Julianna lives in the heart of the wealthy district in Oxenfurt, but nobody knows exactly where her home is located. Rumor says that she’s got three different houses spread across Novigrad.”

Geralt hummed to himself before standing, saying.

“I’ll go talk to Heralda and see what I can find out, and then I’ll be off to Novigrad.”

You nodded before saying.

“By the way, Julianna usually doesn’t stay over when she visits, so you’re more than welcome to come back and finish your stay in your room. Julianna is a prick in the arse, but you’ve already promised to pay.”

“Duly noted.”

Hanging your clothes to dry, you wiped your hands on your apron before bringing your bucket back inside. When you entered, you fell back against the wall beside the door, taking a calming breath as your racing heart began to slow. Geez, the whole time he had sat before you, all you could see was your dream!

How terrible it was to think of someone like that when you had just met them. Surely, this was just another one of those dreams that always came when you bled. Walking to the pot by the fire, you poured in some water and began to make some honeysuckle tea for the pain.

As the tea brewed, the inn began to become alive as it normally did, and as you drank your finished tea, you began to become frustrated when Johanna didn’t come down to begin working. Taking pity, you decided to run the inn by yourself, getting breakfast started for the sailors. How hard Julianna must have made Johanna work.

The whole inn was completely spotless from walls, chairs, tables, counters, and the floor. It made you angry to think that Julianna had made Johanna clean the whole inn, but you expected nothing less from the wrathful woman. There was something dark about Julianna; something traumatic about her that made your skin crawl when she would make her impromptu visits.

Your mind began to wander to Geralt again, remembering the way his eyes had shined in the sun, and you hummed softly to yourself as you rest your chin in your hand. It really was strange for you to think of Geralt in the way that you had been thinking about him; dreaming about him…but was it wrong to feel this way about him?

A distant memory from your mother came into your head, her voice almost like a shrill cry of reminders.

 _‘Don’t ever get involved with anybody who bears the golden eyes of cats, (Y/n),’_ your mother said to you as the two of you watched your father converse with a Witcher he had hired. 

_‘They may keep our countryside safe, keep livestock and people alike alive, and make the world easier to live in with their monster huntin’ but they’re just as dangerous as the monsters in the woods.’_

_‘Why, momma? Daddy doesn’t seem to be havin’ any trouble with the Witcher,’_ you had replied to her. You remember your mother scoffing and shaking her head as she continued harvesting the berries from your berry bushes. _‘Cause he’s getting paid, that’s why. The only time those damn Witcher ever feel a damn thing is for the coin! Now you listen here, (Y/n).’_

When the Witcher had walked off, your father's shoulders had slumped in defeat, and you could clearly remember the warning your mother had given you as if she was just telling you. ‘

 _‘Don’t get involved with anybody of their kind,’_ she had said. _‘They’ll rip you to pieces and then tell you to rip some more.’_

“I shouldn’t get involved with him,” you said softly to yourself, feeling the weight of the reality settling onto your shoulders. The life of a Witcher held no place for lovers, only those they took to their beds for a quick euphoric relief before they left the side of the bed cold in the early hours of the morning.

There was no place for you by the Witcher’s side, and you had to accept that there would never be any sort of spark, any sort of romance, that you could kindle with this Witcher.

You were just two separate worlds living on the same side of the coin, and that was all you could ever be with the mysterious Witcher named Geralt.


	6. Day Five: Discovery

The very next day, you awoke to the smell of something rotting. The smell was pungent, wafting through the air, and it made your stomach churn deeply. On top of your cycle already making you feel gross, the smell seemed to worsen your nausea, and you covered your mouth and made a face.

What the fuck was that smell?

Sitting up, you quickly went through your morning routine before exiting your door. The smell became worse, and one of the sailors was in the hallway, seeming to be smelling the same thing that you were.

“What in the gods' name is that smell?”

“I don’t know. Go back downstairs and I’ll see what it is. Gotta be some dead rats, most likely.”

The sailor accepted your hypothesis, walking down the stairs of the inn, and when you got close to Johanna’s door, you noticed the smell became much, much worse. A sudden feeling of dread filled your stomach.

Beginning to feel yourself shake, you slowly opened the door to Johanna’s room, the stench hitting you like a brick to the stomach, and when your eyes met the bed, you found Johanna lying in bed with her back to the door.

“Johanna, what in the hell do you have rotting in here? Did you forget to throw away uneaten food again?”

However, Johanna did not answer, and you got closer, asking softly.

“Johanna?”

Johanna did not answer, and when you rolled her onto her back, you immediately found out why and screamed as loud as you could.

Johanna was a rotting corpse, her mouth wide open in a silent scream, eyes sunken and rolled into the back of her head. She died terrified, that you knew, and as the pounding of feet sounded, the guests of the inn running up to Johanna’s room, you promptly fell back and fainted.

-WITH GERALT-

Geralt made a face as he walked through the city of Novigrad. Novigrad always carried a heavy smell of mixed perfumes, incenses, and the like, and though Geralt was here often, he never got used to the stench. Especially when going through the poorer districts like the Bits.

Though, Geralt was determined to get through the city to the wealthier district. A thought made Geralt pause, however, as he entered the market area on his way to the main market district.

_“Was there anything going on before Yoseph’s murder? Any strange behavior or occurrences?”_

_Heralda had made herself a recluse, finding company only in drinks and sleep as she stayed in her home in the very bed where Yoseph had been found. Her grievances were heavy upon her heart, and though Geralt could not do much to help ease her pain, he was determined to help her._

_The woman sighed before looking up at Geralt, her eyes heavy with dark bags and ringed red from tears. She swallowed thickly before revealing softly into her bottle of lager._

_“Yoseph…he started to have nightmares. Terrible, terrible nightmares. Most nights, twas like trying to wake a rock! He’d just thrash and scream, almost as if somethin’ was tryin’ to kill him! He’d awake with a cold sweat, almost unable to breathe.”_

_She shook her head, whispering painfully as Heralda clutched the bottle close to her chest._

_“He told me someone was gonna kill him, but I thought it was just the nightmares still haunting him….that maybe he was just sleep-talking!”_

_Hm, nightmares. With the knowledge of nightmares, Geralt was able to safely assume that the monster he was dealing with was either a Bruxa or an Alp, both pretty intelligent vampires._

_The creatures were dangerous, with shrill cries that could knock a man on his ass in no time. Both were able to induce nightmares, but neither had a completely human form like a higher vampire had._

_The fact that a Bruxa or Alp might be what killed Yoseph made Geralt become uncomfortable. He really fucking hated bruxas and alps, one reason being that their shrill cries always gave him headaches and two: they were just really fucking annoying._

_“How long were the nightmares going on?”_

_“About two weeks before his death. I tried to get some medicine for him, but nothing helped.”_

_Geralt hummed before saying._

_“I think I have an idea of what might have killed your husband. I can’t give a solid answer just yet, but…I’ll avenge him for you.”_

_Heralda looked up at Geralt in surprise before tears began to fall down her face._

_“I don’t have nothin’ I can give to you, Witcher.”_

_“Don’t worry about it. I’ve already got another contract that will pay me well.”_

_Heralda whispered, looking at Geralt._

_“They say Witchers can’t feel a thing…that they don’t give a damn what happens to us as long as they get paid…I’m starting to think that they were wrong, you know.”_

_Geralt smiled lightly, nodding to the woman._

_“Not all of us are assholes, that I can give a solid answer for.”_

_For the first time since Yoseph’s death, Heralda smiled at the Witcher, and Geralt then asked her._

_“What do you know about the owner of the inn, Julianna Westenra?”_

_Heralda’s smile was wiped off her face, and she scowled hotly, turning away from Geralt._

_“That bitch is like the ugliest siren of the seas of Ard Skellige, that’s what I know! She works Johanna and (Y/n) to their bones, and I swear, she’s the biggest prick in the arse if you cross her.”_

_Heralda sighed, rubbing her temples._

_“She’s extremely wealthy and runs the inn as a way to keep the crowns. Rumor is that she’s got three other homes in Novigrad…one as a brothel, one as another inn, and the last one is her personal home. She’s always in Novigrad, and only comes here rarely to see how the inn here is doing.”_

_“Do you know the names of these places?”_

_Heralda shook her head._

_“No, I don’t….but you should see my sister, Trina. She works at Julianna’s brothel, but I can’t ever remember the name of it for the life of me. Here, you’ll need this for Trina when you see her. She can’t come up short.”_

_The woman held up a small coin-bag, and Geralt took the bag with a nod._

_“Thanks, I’ll make sure to go to Novigrad after I get to Oxenfurt and see what I can find there. Though, (Y/n) did say that Julianna lived in Oxenfurt.”_

_“That girl gets Novigrad and Oxenfurt confused at times. Normal for someone who has never been to either city and rarely has time to learn of either. She can be a bit dense at times, but don’t let that fool you. Girl’s smarter than she lets on.”_

_Geralt hummed before turning to walk away._

_“Do you think she did this, Geralt?”_

_“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”_

_“If she did this…give me the bitches head.”_

Now, here he stood in the main square, wondering where he should start first. He could ask around for the brothel, but there were plenty of brothels here in Novigrad. Moreover, there were too many inns within the city. It would take much too long for Geralt to figure out which one was Julianna’s.

He would have to start by finding her home, and where else to go than the bank?

Walking the bank, Geralt greeted the banker with a nod.

“Vimme.”

“Geralt! What a nice surprise. Come here to make a loan, or perhaps exchange some coin? Got some houses on the market if you’re interested as well.”

Geralt shook his head, looking down at the dwarf with a kind look on his face.

“None of those things, actually. I’m here to ask you about a woman that I’m looking for. Got some business with her, and she told me to meet her at her home but she failed to mention where it was. Think you could help?”

Vimme nodded, replying as he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ll see what I can do, but I don’t always remember those who come to me. I _am_ the only banker in town, you know.”

Vimme Vizaldi was proud as he said it, a nod gracing his features and a smirk upon his aging visage. Geralt did not comment on it, and Geralt said to him instead.

“Was hoping you could point me in the direction of Julianna Westenra.”

Vimme’s eyes widened and he hummed, looking down and tapping his chin.

“Hm, Westenra. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Are you sure the woman you are talking about is named Julianna?”

Geralt’s eyebrows pinched together, and he crossed his arms, saying.

“That’s who I’m talking about. You don’t sound so sure.”

“Well, no. The only Westenra woman that I remember is a woman named Amma. She’s got a brothel here by the name. ‘Amma’s Pleasantries,’ is the name. Hilarious if you think about it.”

Amma, huh? Geralt hummed and theorized softly to himself.

“She must go by a different name to protect her identity at the brothel. Perhaps Julianna is a middle name?”

Vimme shrugged before asking with a frown.

“What’s this about, Geralt? Amma’s a prick in the arse if I’ve ever met one. Great money, but a terrible attitude….the woman is possibly worse than the King himself.”

“As I said, just got some business to attend to.”

Vimme then nodded, replying.

“Assuming that you’re doing a job. Guess everyone needs a witcher now and then. She lives in Electors’ Square. It’s a big house and the darkest on the street in color. You can’t miss it.”

Handing Geralt the address, Geralt nodded at the dwarf.

“Thank you. I’ll make sure to pay her a visit.”

Setting on his way, it wasn’t long until Geralt found the house. It truly was a big house. It was not the biggest house, but it wasn’t the smallest either. Looking around, Geralt made sure nobody was watching before jamming the lock, breaking into the house.

The house was dusty, almost as if it wasn’t used often. However, it was highly decorated with old paintings and precious valuables that seemed to have been collected of the years. Dark oak flooring with cherry-colored staining made the floor have a red tint when the light glinted onto the painted flooring.

The walls were done with a terra-cotta colored neo-grec wallpaper, making the home seem just as dark on the inside as it was inside. The staircase that led to the upper floor was lined with gold, giving an even more expensive theme to the home. 

It was obvious that Julianna had incredible money, but it was certainly not the amount you could earn in a single life-time. Especially not with the war raging, so where did she get the money from?

Walking up the stairs as quietly as he could, Geralt arrived in the master bedroom and walked in. There was a large bookshelf adjacent to the doorway, knickknacks and expensive décor littered on some of the shelves.

There were religious texts, bestiaries, and other interesting books lining the shelves, but Geralt did not care enough to look through them just yet. By the large canopy bed, there were two dressers on either side, both with gold-plated statuettes.

One was a dragon in the style of the Zerrikanian symbol for the Zerrikanian dragon cult, and the other was the Great Sun, a symbol of the Nilfgaardian Church of the Great Sun. Interesting set of statuettes, but Geralt didn’t think much of them. Many people had plenty of religious paraphernalia, so it wasn’t really of interest.

Opening up the dresser with the Great Sun statuette, Geralt found nothing of interest. Just more jewelry, books, and a couple of clothes. In the other dresser, however, were portraits of people that looked eerily similar to Julianna.

Some of the portraits looked extremely old, some newer than others, and Geralt picked the oldest up. It was dated to have been created around 1025, and when he looked on the back, Geralt couldn’t believe his luck.

_‘1025, Madame Amma J. Arnetsew, Novigrad.’_

“Looks like we got our culprit…but how are you hiding?”

Looking through the drawer, his medallion began to hum, and Geralt picked up a few charms. The humming became worse, and Geralt said to himself.

“Hm, Julianna must have gotten enchantments to give her a completely human image. I wonder who her supplier is.”

Geralt stood. Now that he knew who the monster was, he could go ahead and kill it. Exiting out of the house, Geralt was quick to make his way back to the village, not really eager to run into Julianna or anyone else who might be associated with her. Though, it left Geralt with one question.

Where was her real hide-out? Surely, she wouldn’t spend all this time going back and forth between Novigrad and the village just for a meal. Moreover, Julianna’s house was barren.

No new tracks, nothing that even indicated that the home was a hideout. In fact, the tracks that were in the house were so faded that Geralt was sure that Julianna didn’t use this home as anything but storage.

So, that left the inn in the village. And Geralt was sure that there was no time to lose.

-TIMESKIP-

When Geralt finally got to the village, he knew that there had been another killing. There were people crowded outside of the inn, some mourning and crying, and he could clearly hear the voice of Heralda screaming from inside the inn. Moving through the crowd, Geralt got into the inn and his stomach began to tighten in dread.

There, on the floor, was the dead corpse of Johanna.

His eyes immediately began to search for you, and he found you seated at a corner table with your hands covering your face. You weren’t crying, weren’t even moving, just sitting there with your glass of alcohol untouched. Heralda was leaned over Johanna, crying hysterically, and Geralt swallowed thickly.

“Fuck.”

Walking over to (Y/n), Geralt asked her.

“What happened?”

“Isn’t it fucking obvious? Johanna is dead. She’s fucking dead.”

Geralt took a breath, not knowing how to feel, and he sat down beside you, taking a quick drink. You began to speak, soft enough for only Geralt to hear.

“I found her this morning. There was a strange smell in the air, and I thought that maybe the rats that we had roaming had eaten the poison and died. I thought it was their corpses rotting.”

You took a deep breath, never once moving at all to look at him or move your hair from hanging.

“I should have…I should have stayed awake and watched over her. I should have made sure that she was alright. I thought that maybe she was tired because Julianna made her clean the whole place spotless…but I never…never thought that she was dead.”

Geralt hated being the bringer of terrible news, but Geralt knew he had no other choice than to reveal this terrible knowledge that he had learned.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know. You didn’t know…but if there’s something that I can do, it’s killing the monster who did this. Luckily, I know who it was.”

That was when you looked up. Heralda was still crying, not listening to anything you and Geralt were saying, and you slowly looked over at Geralt with an unreadable expression.

“Who the fuck was it, Geralt? Was it one of us?”

“It was Julianna. She’s the monster in the village, and I’m pretty sure she’s got her hideout here.”

Geralt could see the fire rising in your eyes, a deep-seated rage beginning to blossom, and you looked away from him.

“I fucking knew it. I knew that fucking bitch wasn’t human. There was something fucking weird about her, Geralt. I never could place it, but it all makes sense now. It’s no wonder why she never lets anybody in the basement.”

“There’s a basement?”

You nodded before holding up your hand, chugging your full glass of alcohol like it was nothing. In a small part of Geralt’s mind, he was impressed. You slammed your mug down, and you shook your head, holding a hand to your belly as if you were in pain.

“Yes, there’s a fucking basement. It’s kept under lock and key, but I bet that there’s a different way to get in. There’s always a damn draft coming through the fucking door. It makes this place so cold at night that your balls would disappear.”

Geralt huffed out a small laugh before asking you.

“Are you alright?”

“Physically or mentally?”

Geralt hummed, looking down at your hand before saying.

“Let’s go with physical first.”

You sighed before taking your hand from your belly and setting it on the table.

“I’m fine, just getting really tired of looking at Johanna’s body. It’s making me physically ill. Heralda, can you please take her out of here and prepare her? I can’t stand looking at this anymore.”

Heralda gave you a look, and you stared back. Heralda simply wiped her cheeks, asking one of the men to help her with Johanna, and you sighed, looking down into your empty mug and playing with the rim of the cup.

“When I found her, I fainted. One of the men said I landed right on one of her shoes onto my stomach. Just kinda hurts, but I’ll be fine.”

Geralt could tell that you were lying, but decided not to say anything. Instead, he looked at the spot where Johanna’s body had lied just a few seconds before.

“What about mentally?”

“I don’t know, Geralt. I really don’t. I’m angry, I’m upset, I’m mourning, and I’m just…tired. I’m exhausted.”

You sighed deeply, and Geralt stayed respectively quiet, allowing you to gather more of your thoughts before you continued.

“I don’t have any idea where I’m gonna go from here…where I can go.”

You let your voice trail off, shaking your head before looking at Geralt. Geralt was quiet still, looking down at the table before he said.

“I know it’s not much, but I will avenge Johanna and Yoseph. I’ll make sure that Julianna doesn’t get away with killing them, and that is something that I can promise you.”

Geralt looked at you, hoping he sounded as sincere as he was trying to be, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Allowing your eyes to scan over his face, you seemed to memorize his face as much as you could.

You committed his scars and slight wrinkles to memory, mapped the shaping of his slight beard, and the black hairs that peppered the hairs on his chin and his eyebrows. When you found that you had been staring for too long, you shook your head and looked away, saying.

“I’ll hold you to that, Geralt. Please excuse me, I need to help prepare Johanna for her send-off.”

Geralt nodded before watching you go, and he stayed sitting at the table, his shoulders sagging slightly. It truly was a fucked up situation, and Geralt knew there wasn’t going to be much else that he could do for you other than kill Julianna and bring her head to you.

Just as you had done, Geralt had memorized your face, committing it to memory. Geralt really didn’t know why, but there was something about you piquing his interest. Was it because you were holding something back from him? Was it because of the way the light reflected in your eyes?

Was it the way you spoke, the way you held yourself, the way you walked? Was it the way you smelled, a fresh scent with something spicy mixed in…almost like black pepper wine. 

It was intriguing, and Geralt took a breath before standing up. He would need to prepare for Julianna, and he’s was sure that he was gonna need your help considering your connection to the vampire.

He just hoped you wouldn’t hate him for what he had in mind.


	7. Day Six: Headspace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henry Cavill deserves all the love in the world and all the kisses and I hope he's having a great day wherever it is that he's at.

_Like a pillow made of the sky, your body was soft beneath him. A strange glow surrounded the woods he was in, whisking and crackling like the spit of a healthy fire._

_It was appropriate for how he felt._

_Geralt felt hot, smothered by your warmth as your kisses made him become more enveloped in a blanket of lust and raw need. Geralt could not pull himself away from you, and in this moment, in this dream, he did not want to. It was as if he knew this was where he needed to be; where his soul, if he truly had one, longed to be._

_His hand ran along your arm, ghosting his fingers along your skin. Gooseflesh erupted where he touched, and you whimpered into his ear as he thrust his cock into you like a wild animal, chasing that erotic euphoria he had craved for you to give him for so long._

_“Geralt-!”_

_However, despite how beautiful his name sounded on your lips when you were drunk on pleasure and erotic satisfaction, it made Geralt realize that this was a dream. As he became lucid, he gained control of his body, and Geralt stopped thrusting. You whined in frustration, asking him._

_“Why did you stop?”_

_“I’m dreaming.”_

_He said it more to himself than to you, and you placed your hand against his cheek, whispering against his lips._

_“Do you wish to wake from me? Do you wish to part from me so soon?”_

_Geralt was torn. While it was not wrong to dream of someone like this…it was strange to him that it was with you. Why would he dream of this? Why would he dream of fucking you in the middle of the woods by a lovely campfire when he didn’t know you that well?_

_“You are thinking too hard, Geralt. You want this just as much as I do, don’t you? **I need you.”**_

_Geralt groaned lightly as he felt your hips roll up into his own, and Geralt gave in. It would not hurt to have you like this even if it meant that he could not have you in real life. Geralt took your lips for his own, growling lightly, and he allowed himself to fall deeper into the dream._

Waking up slowly, Geralt groaned and rolled over in his bed, wiping his face and taking a deep breath as he lied on his stomach. His shirtless torso was freezing, the blanket having slipped off during the night, and his loins were on fire. Curse you for invading his dreams like that.

Geralt sighed, sitting up and grabbing a cloth from in the cold basin of water, wringing it before wiping his face with it. The cold rag helped him to wake up more, and when he looked out the window, the sun was just beginning to rise.

He could hear you getting ready for the day, your steps soft as you walked around your room, presumably getting dressed. Would you look the same as you did in his dream? Geralt hummed lightly, trying to clear the thoughts from his head. He shouldn’t think of this kind of stuff when he had an important job to do.

Geralt slipped on his armor and clothing for the day, tightening his boots and strapping his swords to his back once he was finished. When Geralt walked out of his room, you had walked out of yours as well, yawning deeply and glancing at him.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.”

The two of you walked side-by-side down the hallway and down the stairs, and you asked him as you began to get breakfast going.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll have to wait until nightfall to confront Julianna. Vampires are nocturnal, and they usually prefer to move during the night. Certain vampires are immune to the sun, but it’s usually a preference.”

You nodded, understandably quiet from the events of last night, and Geralt did not dare to say more. There was a silence between you two that spoke more than verbal words could ever say. You understood what needed to be done, and Geralt knew that you were still struggling with the loss of Johanna.

There was a solemn silence in the inn, the people too lost in their mourning minds to strike conversation. Most simply ate their food, drank their drinks, and left for the docks to get to work. When the inn was relatively empty, you found it an opportune time to discuss the job with Geralt.

“So, what did you find at Julianna’s home?”

Geralt replied, taking a bite of his breakfast.

“The house seems like it isn’t really used. There was dust everywhere, so I don’t think it’s where she usually hides out. I did find some interesting stuff in her dressers though.”

Geralt pulled out the pictures and portraits he had found, and you were in awe.

“She really never aged at all…I wonder how she was able to stay out in public for so long.”

“Vampires can go through a hibernation period if they choose to do so. Julianna probably went into hibernation for a couple of hundred years so she wouldn’t raise suspicion when coming back into the public.”

He took a large swig of his drink before continuing, and you sat down in front of him, sliding a bit of food from the pot for yourself and digging in.

“I also found old charms used for glamours. Bruxae and Alps don’t have a completely human form, but they are intelligent. Julianna most likely had glamour’s made so she could assume a completely human and blend in.”

You hummed, shaking your head as you took another bite of your food.

“That’s terrifying to think about…to think a monster could be so sentient that it knows in order to survive and kill silently, it would need to…be like us.”

You made a face, and Geralt said, giving you a look.

“It’s not as uncommon as you might think. There are a lot of intelligent monsters…and most of them just want to be left alone.”

You looked at Geralt and asked him.

“Have you met many?”

“Not too many, but just enough. Trolls would be a good example to use. Their common speak and grammar is worse than horse shit, but they’re intelligent enough to know how to speak.”

You nodded before making a face as a cramp began to run through your nethers, and Geralt placed his fork down on his empty plate.

“Celandine tea helps with pain, especially with honeysuckle essence.”

“I’m fine, but thank you.”

God, it was so embarrassing to you for someone to notice your pain. What if he asked you why? You really hoped he wouldn’t. Oh god, what if he could smell the blood? Your face went hot, and you stood up, grabbing his plate with yours and turning to place them on a rack to take them to the backrooms for washing.

If Geralt noticed your haste to escape the direction the conversation was going, he did not comment on it.

Placing the dishes in the washbasin, you took a deep breath and pressed your hand against your abdomen. You could tell that you were going to need a new rag, the rag beginning to smell strange, and you really hoped that Geralt hadn’t been able to smell it.

How embarrassing would that be? Taking a deep breath as a heat flash ran through you, you groaned and laid your forehead against your arms, leaning on the counter. Deciding to get a celandine and honeysuckle tea going, you began to boil the water before walking out and informing Geralt.

“I’m going upstairs real quick, but if you could, would you be willing to finish that tea you mentioned?”

Geralt nodded and stood up, replying.

“Sure thing.”

Rushing upstairs, you decided to get into something much more comfortable. As you undressed, you were hit with the stench of old blood and groaned deeply. You really, really hoped that Geralt didn’t smell it.

“Of all things I could have been born as, it had to be a human woman.”

Cleaning yourself up and using perfume to mask any remnant of the smell, you had changed into a pair of trousers and a short-sleeved shirt, leaving the front unlaced so you had more air coming into the material. Stuffing the cuffs of your trousers into your boots, you laced them up before walking back downstairs.

Geralt was already back from the private kitchen area of the inn, steeping the tea, and when he looked over, he seemed to pause before going back to work. You didn’t question it, instead sitting down in front of him. Geralt handed you the finished tea, and you took a large sip. Humming deeply, you said to him.

“You really know your stuff.”

“Witchers are taught herbs and their properties throughout their time at their respective school. Believe it or not, most of our time at our schools is spent studying.”

You were intrigued, giving him an interested look before looking away and into your tea. There was a comfortable silence that settled over the two of you, and Geralt took the time to observe you while you drank your tea. You looked relaxed, heartbeat no longer racing, and he wondered what it was that was ailing you.

There really wasn’t any way to tell without doing a thorough evaluation (or just asking), but Geralt was certain you wouldn’t appreciate him prying into your business. Looking away, Geralt began to get lost in thought.

You really shouldn’t be plaguing his mind so much, but ever since the dream from the morning, Geralt couldn’t keep you off his mind. It was almost laughable how easily you had gotten into his mind all because of a sexual dream.

He had never been like this with Yennefer, even when they had been tied because of the wish he had made. Geralt felt like a teenager again; fantasizing and dreaming about forbidden romances and sexual relationships between himself and beautiful women.

Looking over at you, Geralt allowed his eyes to rake over your form shamelessly as you drank and enjoyed your tea. Your shirt was loose, and the lacing was undone, allowing your chest to show a bit.

Your skin seemed soft and smooth on your chest, and Geralt remembered how he had kissed your skin in his dream…how nice it felt to do so. Your eyes were closed in euphoria as whatever it was that you were ailing from left you alone, and Geralt almost felt proud that he could make you feel alright.

These thoughts and feelings confused Geralt immensely. He knew that they meant there was an interest in you, but there was no reason why a simple dream would ignite such a fire as he felt. Was it possible that you were a thrall to Julianna? Somehow influenced by her?

It would make sense. If Julianna fed from you often without you even knowing, it was possible that there was something within you that made you so sexually appealing to him. Geralt admittedly didn’t know too much about vampire thralls. Thralls were almost as rare as higher vampires were, and Geralt had never come across one before.

He wondered if Vesemir would know more about vampire thralls, or if there was some sort of bestiary entry about them. He’d have to do more research on it after the job. Admittedly, if you truly were an unwilling thrall, it would make luring Julianna to the inn so much easier. You were a constant and assured food source for Julianna.

But if so, that didn’t explain the sudden deaths in the village.

There was so much more to this than Geralt was getting, and it was incredibly frustrating to him that he couldn’t immediately connect the dots. He needed to evaluate Julianna’s hideout as soon as he could so he could understand.

“You once mentioned a basement…can you show me where that is?”

Your first instinct was to tell Geralt that nobody was allowed in the basement, not even you, but given the situation, you turned to Geralt and nodded.

“I can, but I don’t have a key to get in there. Julianna doesn’t allow anybody in the basement…do you think that might be where she hides?”

“It’s a possibility, but I’ll have to take a look in order to be sure.”

You nodded before placing your empty teacup on the counter, wiping your hands off. Gesturing with your head, you led Geralt through the hallway towards the staircase. Beside the staircase was a hallway that led to the stairs to the basement.

Opening the door, you walked down the steps to stop in front of the door at the end of the stairs, a large ‘DO NOT ENTER’ sign hanging from a rusty nail. You turned to Geralt, and he said.

“I don’t suppose you’ve ever been down here before.”

“No, never. Julianna made it very clear to Johanna and I that we were never to come down to the basement at all. We never really questioned her, but I won’t lie that I’ve been curious as to what she has down here.”

Geralt hummed before you slid past him, your scent overwhelming Geralt’s nose, and he had to take a moment to reorient himself. It was almost irritating what an effect you had on him.

Geralt looked back at you for a moment, and you tilted your head in question before Geralt promptly kicked the door right from its hinges. You gasped and smacked his shoulder, hissing.

“Fuck’s sake, are you mad?”

You placed your hands on your hips before saying.

“You’re paying for a new door, do you understand?”

Geralt simply grinned lightly before looking into the basement. At first glance, it was a regular basement with shelves and bags of non-perishable foods. However, scattered along the shelves were priceless valuables; gold and gems everywhere. You gasped and whispered to him as the two of you walked inside.

“Geralt, look at all the gold! Oh, look at this!”

You held up a pure gold circlet, glowing rubies in the center, and Geralt said as he grabbed the valuable.

“She must have been collecting these for a long time. This looks Elvish.”

“Do you…do you think these are from her victims?”

Geralt wasn’t sure if you truly wanted to know that, so he simply glanced at you before placing the circlet back onto the shelf. In the back of the basement, there was a tunnel covered with an expensive tapestry of the Great Sun, and he said to himself.

“I knew it. There’s gotta be an outhouse or a shed somewhere near that she dug this to so getting in and out wouldn’t be so much of an issue.”

You made a face before asking him.

“We’re not going to go in there, are we?”

“I am, you’re not.”

You made a face at Geralt, and he crossed his arms at you.

“It’s too dangerous for you. We don’t know what could be waiting for us at the end of the tunnel. You would be better off staying here. Besides, someone has to run the inn.”

You growled a bit before huffing. Geralt was right, but you didn’t want to say it out loud. You really weren’t that good with a sword…and you’d never faced anybody nor anything in battle, so all you would be to Geralt is deadweight.

Geralt started to smirk a little when he realized you were trying to find a way to tell him he was right, and he offered to you.

“You can just leave and not say anything to save yourself more dignity. I know I’m right.”

“You know, I was just starting to like you, but now that you wanted to be an asshole, you can go on ahead and go fuck yourself.”

Geralt could see the smile on your face as you turned and left, and Geralt watched you leave, tilting his head as he watched you walk away. Shaking his head, he mumbled to himself as he ducked into the tunnel.

“What a firecracker.”


End file.
